"Where did you come from? How did you get here? Did Aunt Sarah find you? Does dad know you've come? When—"
"There, there, Pat! Not more than three questions at a time, please," interrupted his aunt. "And you're not leaving Anne breath to answer one."
How much there was to ask and to tell! Anne gave an account of her wanderings. Pat told how they had searched for her, how grieved the asylum people and the Marshall family were at not being able to find her. "Why, there's that little chap Dunlop. He asked if you had any jam for your supper—and I told him 'No'—and he wouldn't touch it—said he didn't want it, if Anne didn't have any."
"Dunlop! Dunlop did that!"
"He and his small brother weep a little weep every time your name is mentioned."
"Oh, Pat! Why, I never thought they'd care so much," said Anne. "I miss them. But I was afraid to write to them. I didn't want to go back there. Can they make me go back, if I write and tell them where I am?"
"No, indeed," answered Miss Drayton.
"Bet your life they can't," said Pat. "You're coming to live with us. Isn't she, Aunt Sarah?"
"I'm so glad! I'm so glad!" Anne was radiant. "I love Cousin Dorcas," she hastened to explain. "She's just as kind to me as can be and she's awful good. But—she's one of the good people you don't want to live with. She has nerves, you know, and so many troubles. And her arms aren't cuddly. Not like yours, Miss Drayton. I think she likes me—a cousin-like, you know,—but I'm sure she'll be glad not to have me live with her. She hasn't much money and I cost so much. Shoes are the worst. I wear them out so fast."
"You can wear out all you want to now,—shoes and everything. And give Cousin Dorcas some, too," said Pat.